


make do

by jhoom



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Heat Cycles, M/M, Purgatory, Top!Cas, a/b/o dynamics, alpha!cas, bottom!Dean, omega!dean, randomly kinda sad at the end, wing!kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-27 00:37:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8380942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jhoom/pseuds/jhoom
Summary: Dean unexpectedly goes into heat while in Purgatory, and Castiel does the chivalrous thing and offers to help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> based on [this post](http://yourspecialeyes.tumblr.com/post/152225734442/fvckingcastiel-ok-but-what-about-cas-protecting), specifically: OR they’re fucking and someone walks in on them so cas shields dean from view because he’s HIS dean and only cas gets to see him like that

The poor man hasn’t gone through a heat since he first presented.  Never let it be said that the suppressants don’t do their job.  But apparently they do it too well, erasing any signs of discomfort to the point where one can’t recognize an oncoming heat.  

It’s evident in the way Dean keeps walking through the woods, completely oblivious to his symptoms.  Every stride producing a grimace, every sharp sound causing an annoyed growl.  The sweating and the achy joints.  The headaches and irritability.  

In all fairness, Castiel doesn’t notice it either.  He’s so far removed from these human inconveniences that he’s only peripherally aware of them when exposed.  His vessel’s ruts are always muted by his grace, something he might notice on occasion but with such minor effects as to be easily ignored.  

So he doesn’t understand the cause of Benny’s sniffling or worried looks cast Dean’s way.  

Until Dean’s fever breaks and the scent of slick permeates the air.  

“Oh shit.”  Dean looks torn between mortification and worry.  And not without cause.  Heats are difficult under the best of circumstances, but with the monsters of Purgatory looming around every corner, the danger is magnified tenfold.  “I- I- I-” he stutters, backing himself against the nearest tree, as though it could do anything to shield him.

“When’s the last time you had a heat?”  The way Benny asks means he’s pretty sure of the answer, but the vampire needs to know.

“15.”  He swallows and tries again, forcing his voice to be a little stronger.  “Not since I was 15.”

Benny curses under his breath and rubs a palm over his face.  Omegas experienced with heats can still function, even if it is a strain on their bodies.  Inexperienced omegas, however…

“You want me or the angel?”  Benny’s offer is born of necessity, and it shows in the rigid way he holds his body.  

Dean’s eyes flick between them, panic threatening to break him where a Purgatory full of Leviathan could not, before they settle on Castiel.  “Alphas are better,” he grumbles, looking away before he finishes.  

It’s true, or at least the conventional wisdom spouted by humans claims it to be.  A beta like Benny will do in a pinch, but with an alpha the relief is more immediate and the cycle shorter.  Benny breathes out all his tension, grumbling something about keeping watch and disappearing.  

In moments like this, he almost finds himself missing Jimmy’s presence.   _Jimmy_ is the alpha.   _Jimmy_ knows what to do with a needy omega in heat.  But alas, all Castiel has left of the man who gave him his body are memories, dull and grey from disuse.  He does his best to draw on them, and it helps him focus.  

Make the omega comfortable.  

He takes off his trenchcoat and lays it on the ground, spreading it out and making sure there are no rocks or twigs underneath.  With a hand he beckons Dean to come over from his perch against the tree.  It takes some coaxing, but eventually Dean huffs and stomps over.  The closer he comes, the more his sweet smell of spent grain and cocoa permeates the air and drowns out all of Castiel’s other senses.  

His mouth is drooling by the time Dean is in reach…

There’s an instinct demanding him to grab and manhandle Dean down to the ground, to tear off his clothes and force him to present himself for Castiel’s pleasure.  He shakes his head to dispel the thought and cut off the growl he longs to make.  Instead he ignores the base urge and tenderly draws Dean in.  He removes each garment with care, knowing that they’re the only clothes Dean has in this lonely place and he would be very upset if they were damaged.

When he lays Dean down on the coat, he has to stop Dean from turning over.  The omega in him wants to present, and the human in him wants to get this over with.  But Castiel wants to take care of the hunter, wants to ease all his troubles and make this as pleasurable as possible, given the circumstances.  So with Dean on his back, Castiel makes his way from the tips of his toes up to the crown of his head, massaging his sore muscles and peppering his skin with enough kisses to rival his freckles in number.  

Only when the omega is a relaxed mess beneath him does he remove his own clothing and drape himself over his willing body.  

Luckily his body takes over as soon as he lines himself with Dean’s slick hole.  He reels himself in before he hurts the omega, but in every way he can he lets go.  Dean doesn’t come until Castiel’s knotted him, and the sweet sounds he makes in the throws of bliss pleas Castiel to no end.  

By then he feels the nagging pains that Jimmy’s memories warn him mean _rut_.

They don’t talk in between their frantic fucking sessions, but Dean allows Castiel to hold him and kiss him gently and whisper praises.  It’s all Castiel could’ve hoped for, especially when the omega sighs in contentment underneath him.  

He knows intellectually that the ruts are worst just before they end, but he’s had little personal experience to give validity to that claim.  There’s no doubting the intensity with which he now fucks into Dean, thrusting and nipping all along his collarbone (even when his instincts scream at him to _bite_ and _claim_ and _mark_ ).  

And there’s no denying the enthusiastic way Dean echoes back his moans and shouts.  Or urges him on with, “That all you got, angel?  C’mon, alpha, thought you could do better than that.”

Perhaps only because he’s so intensely in tune with his inner alpha does he feel eyes on him.  He howls in warning, glaring at the darkness and the faint glimmer of eyes looking back.  They’re no threat, merely the lesser monsters sent here to while away eternity in this abandoned realm, but it raises his hackles to have them so near.  They’ve come to watch, come to see the hunter get fucked by his angel and Castiel is loathe to let them.  

“Mine,” he snaps with barred teeth.  With surprisingly little effort, he manifests his wings.  The feathery appendages puff out over them in an impressive display before he folds them tight around him and his hunter.  Those creatures don’t deserve to see Dean like this, so beautiful and pure in his need.  

“Mine,” he whispers again, this time only loud enough for Dean to hear.

“‘m yours, Cas,” he breathes back.  His fingers reach up to tangle in his wings, brushing through them and tracing along the joints until he grabs a fistful of them.  Castiel arches his back, desperately close to release merely from Dean touching some part of _him_ that’s beyond his vessel and its earthly hold on him.  “And you're mine,” Dean growls before seizing Castiel’s mouth and then breaking their kiss with a bite to his bottom lip.  

“Yes,” he moans.  As if there were ever any question.  

He pulls away enough to work the soft edges of his feathers between their joined bodies.  As he did with his hands earlier, he now traces every inch of Dean’s body with his wings, memorizing the way Dean looks and feels below him.  Only when he brushes against Dean’s cock does the omega choke out a whine and spill his seed between them.  

Castiel’s alpha needs are calmed when he sees his sated omega, and he himself comes with little fanfare.  None of the orgasms Dean’s beautiful body pull from him at all compare to the one he witnessed Dean himself experience.  With the lingering hints of their mating cycle fading into the night, Castiel nuzzles into the hunter’s neck.   

His wings continue to shield them and their rapidly cooling bodies, and Castiel finds himself already bereft of Dean’s constant presence.  Especially with his imminent return to Earth and Castiel’s plan to stay behind…

With a great deal of effort, he pushes the negative thoughts aside and stops the slight tremor in his wings.  He still has right now.  He’ll just have to make do with what time is left to him.  

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed it and come visit me on [tumblr](http://jhoomwrites.tumblr.com)


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